


Bound for His Pleasure

by Katalyna_Rose



Series: Alie Hawke [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Dom Fenris (Dragon Age), Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, IF YOU'RE HERE FOR PLOT YOU'VE COME TO THE WRONG PLACE, IF YOU'RE HERE FOR PORN THEN PLEASE STAY, Sub Hawke, just porn, there is no plot here, this is literally just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9477575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyna_Rose/pseuds/Katalyna_Rose
Summary: In their bedroom, Fenris is Alie's master, and she loves nothing more than to submit to him. She knows he'll take good care of the body she entrusts to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Look, Alie and Fenris's first NSFW piece! And, damn, it is seriously NSFW... And my first bondage piece! Did I do okay? Someone who's in a BDSM relationship (or engages in BDSM enough to know their stuff), tell me if I did this right!

Hawke shivered when she felt the lightest brush of the cool leather tip of the riding crop glide across the backs of her shoulders as Fenris prowled around her. Blindfolded as she was, she knew where he was in the room only by the intensely physical feeling of his attention directed solely at her. When the light touch left her, she whimpered slightly and felt his heavy presence move slowly around to her front. She pulled a little at the ropes that bound her wrists to her elbows and flexed her ankles, which were tethered to her wrists. She was immobile, well and truly trapped, but the soft satin of the ropes binding her caused no pain, no friction against her skin, and only served to keep her still. Her eyes darted uselessly behind her blindfold as she briefly lost her sense of where Fenris was around her, and then she yelped as the riding crop cracked across the tender skin of her belly.

The sharp sting of the hit was followed almost immediately by light, soothing strokes. But still Fenris did not touch her. He prowled her still, and she felt his concentration as he took in the sight of her, bound and helpless for his pleasure. She arched her back, stretching her bindings again, and heard his low growl as her naked breasts jutted up. The tip of the riding crop smacked across her right nipple, and she gasped. She let her head fall back, arching to him, begging for another hit with her body. He gave it to her, across her other nipple, and the sharpness of it caused her to gasp and rub her thighs together as wetness grew between them. The pain sent pleasure shooting across her nerves, at once like heat and lightning, and she wished he would touch her.

As she had that thought, she felt his breath on the back of her neck. His fingers threaded through her long, dark hair gently and tilted her head to the side. He flicked his tongue up and down the column of her neck, making her shiver, before taking her ear lobe between his teeth sharply, making her cry out.

“Fenris,” she murmured pleadingly, but it was not for her to make demands. His hand gripped her throat, squeezing slightly at the big veins in the sides of her neck, causing her head to swim as the blood flow briefly slowed. His teeth bit down harder on her ear in warning, then released when she squeaked in response.

“Alie,” he growled at her ear, dragging out those two syllables until they felt physical, like a weight on her shoulder beneath his chin. The sound, low and dark and filled with lust, caused her to shiver. She felt wetness trickle slowly down her thighs and she rubbed them together, squeezing, desperate for sensation. “Who do you belong to?” Fenris asked her, his hot, damp breath in her ear making her shiver.

She tilted her head back, resting it against his chest, and he allowed the movement, his fingers sliding carefully out of her hair. “You,” she whispered brokenly. “I belong to you.” Fenris growled his approval and took her lips in a searing kiss. Her head was still leaned back and the kiss pressed her into a strange contortion, but the discomfort was a small price to pay for the taste of his tongue in her mouth and the way he attempted to devour her.

He pulled away abruptly, and she felt cold without his kiss, without his skin, gasping like a fish out of water. She shivered, waiting for his next move, trembling with anticipation and excitement. The riding crop smacked the damp seam of her folds, just above where her thighs pressed tightly together, and she released a brief scream as the pain tickled her clit and she nearly came in an instant. She bent forward but couldn’t go far; the tether between her wrists and ankles kept her from falling forward as she wished to.

Fenris was a master with the riding crop; with delicate flicks of his wrist he allowed the soft, limp square of leather at the end to snap across her skin without allowing the metal rod that made up the shaft and handle to touch her. Carefully, he flicked her nipples with it until they were hot and throbbing and she was pleading with him for release.

“Fenris, please, more. I need more!” she cried, trembling, shaking, wet and excited. She wiggled, unable to move much as he trailed the square of leather gently down her belly. He paused just above the dark curls that covered her groin, and she desperately tried to lift her hips into the touch. “Please, please, please,” she chanted in a whisper, almost like a prayer. He growled low in his throat and gave her the touch she so desperately needed.

With steady, careful pressure, Fenris pressed the riding crop into her dripping wet folds until the stiff rod was pressed against her clit, softened only a little by the thick leather that surrounded it. In this, too, he was well-practiced and precise, and with miniscule movements of his wrist he rubbed her clit. Swiftly, she was brought to the edge, her head falling back, mouth open around harsh panting breaths and wordless cries.

Seconds before Alie would have tipped into an endless ocean of pleasure and release, the careful touch of the riding crop was taken away. “No!” she cried, straining against her bonds, rubbing her legs together.

A hand so hot it nearly burned her skin came to rest gently against her lower belly, rough callouses on long fingers scraping at her delicate, sensitive skin and feeling the fluttering of the muscles there as her body wept for release.

“Not yet,” Fenris growled, his voice even lower still with the depth of his dark lust. She whimpered helplessly.

With two quick movements, he freed her ankles from their tethers, then pulled her to shaking feet. She couldn’t stand, her knees watery and wobbly, but he supported her weight as he guided her where he wanted her. The fronts of her thighs met the edge of their bed, and when she stumbled he pressed her down onto it. Her feet remained flat on the floor, but her upper body was pressed into the soft mattress. She smiled when she realized there was a pillow beneath her head to cushion her further; it was in these little ways that she felt his love and care the strongest when he had her bound and helpless like this.

Big, calloused hands restlessly caressed Alie’s hips, the riding crop apparently abandoned, and she tried not to squirm or press her ass into those hands. After only a few moments of his exploration, kneading at the flesh of her ass and caressing her skin, she failed in her resolve and pressed herself back with a choked moan. He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that coiled in her gut and threatened to send her to her peak all on its own.

Fenris bent over her, his warm chest pressing into her back, until he could sink his teeth into her shoulder. She cried out, her legs trembling helplessly. He released her skin but didn’t move, his thumbs rubbing restless circles in her hips, his harsh breaths loud in her ear.

“Tell me what you feel,” he commanded, the hard, hot weight of his bare erection digging into her ass.

“Hot,” Alie replied instantly, her voice barely above a whisper. She licked her dry lips. “Wet. Needy. _Empty.”_ That last word she lamented, unintentionally turning it almost into a curse, and Fenris groaned, his cock twitching against her. “Please, Fenris, love, take me,” she whispered, begging, daring to ask. “Please, please, please…”

Soft lips met her neck and he growled, “As you wish,” directly into her ear. Then, suddenly, the tip of his cock was pressing into her folds, then past her entrance. She screamed, throwing her head back on her sharp cry, as Fenris sheathed himself to the hilt within her in one slow thrust. He groaned and lifted himself off her back. She felt him pull her ass cheeks apart as he withdrew, only slightly, and pressed back inside. She heard his groan, deep and low and loud, as he undoubtedly watched himself enter her thus. And then he paused, still, waiting for her body to finish adjusting itself to the rather large intrusion. Only when she wiggled her hips and tried to press herself back onto him did he begin to move.

His rhythm began slow as he savored her little gasps and moans. She began to speak, whispering what she felt to him, knowing it would drive him wild. “Oh, Fenris, you feel so good,” she told him in a low moan. “Filling me, friction, _burning._ Ah, more, please more. Fenris…” He sped up, snapping his hips into hers, and the obscene sound of flesh slapping against wet flesh spurred him on. His hand cracked against her backside, and she cried out, tensing, her sheath gripping him tightly for a moment before relaxing and allowing him even further inside. He slapped the other cheek and achieved the same result, the pleasure of the pain shocking her. He growled her name and slapped her again.

“Yes, yes, yes, Fenris, please, more,” she whispered, begging him in an unending stream of consciousness that grew less coherent by the second as he thrust deep into her body and her ass burned white hot from the crack of his palms. She pressed her face hard into the pillow, moaning wordlessly as he massaged her hot, sore ass and pounded her. Her body slid back and forth across the bed with the force of his thrusts and the friction brought such perfect pleasure, but she couldn’t find her peak, not without his permission.

He leaned forward just a bit and the fingers of one hand found her clit even as he pounded her into the bed and the frame creaked and their skin slapped noisily together. “Come,” he commanded, low and dark and broking no argument. Not that she would ever protest such a command.

Alie obeyed in an instant, screaming hoarsely as pleasure flashed through her. The touch of his rough fingers on her clit had her sheath clenching around his rock hard cock as it slipped in and out of her body, each time he pressed back in meeting more resistance as her pleasure only built and she tightened within.

The strong clenching of her muscles had nearly pushed him out of her body when she felt him begin to tremble, and it was the knowledge of his impending climax that finally allowed the tidal wave of pleasure to break over her. With wordless screams and sobs, she came, his name on her lips like a prayer as the pleasure wiped her thoughts and filled her mind with nothing but sensation and _him._ Vaguely, as if from far away, she felt nails digging into her hips, and heat flashed through her with the tiny bite of pain, and the hot wetness within her sprayed out and caused her world to shatter. Dimly, she heard his shouts join hers and felt the searing hot jets of seed he pumped into her body as she lost all sense of self in the pleasure.

It was a long time before her consciousness returned to her body, and Alie took a deep, shuddering breath when it did. Fenris, who had been collapsed across her back, felt her return and slowly sat up. His cock slid free of her body easily, though the sensation on the nearly-raw nerves made her bite back a pained whine.

With careful, shaking hands, Fenris released her arms from their binding. Then, carefully, he turned her over so she lay on her back and pushed the blindfold up onto her forehead. He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

_“Champion,”_ he whispered reverently, the signal that meant they were finished, at least for now. When she failed to respond, he took her face in both hands and brushed his lips gently across her closed eyes. “Are you alright, Alie?” She couldn’t move, only trembled with aftershocks so intense she felt like she might shatter at any moment. “Did I hurt you?” The concern in his voice jolted her out of the haze a little, and she mustered a small smile, opening her eyes to slits to see his heated, sweaty face hovering over hers, silvery white hair darkened and plastered to his face with sweat.

“Only in the best ways,” she croaked, her throat dry and scratchy. He smiled, relieved, and his touch left her. Moments later, he returned with a damp cloth. He touched it to her arm to let her know what it was, and waited for her to nod her acceptance before he carefully and tenderly cleaned her up. There was a brief pause as he undoubtedly cleaned himself, as well, and then he sat her up gently and wrapped her crimson robe around her, helping her to get her limp and tingling arms through the sleeves. Then he gathered her into his arms and lifted her up. She noticed, as if from far away, that he had tossed on his own black robe with the silver embroidery.

“That’s my favorite,” she murmured, still dazed. With bleary, blurry vision, she took in the gorgeous contrast between the black silk and his dark skin, and the way the silver embroidery served to highlight the beauty and intricacy of his lyrium markings. Though he still hated what the marks represented he knew she found them beautiful, and that gave him some appreciation for them. She appreciated the way he showed his appreciation.

“Hmm? Your favorite what?” he asked her as he carried her out of their room and downstairs.

“Robe,” she answered. “I like that one.” He chuckled as he settled her into the high-backed, cushioned chair before the fire. He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders with a tender embrace.

“I’ll be right back, my love,” he told her. She nodded happily, still floating on waves of pleasure.

She might have briefly dozed off, because what felt like only a second later Fenris was pressing a cold glass of water into her hand and urging her to drink. He steadied her shaking hands with his and helped her finish the water, then downed his own glass. He refilled hers and set it on the side table, within reach. That duty done, he lifted her again and sat in the chair, settling her in his lap. She snuggled close, wonderfully content, well sated, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Read to me,” she said, her voice still soft and dreamy. “I want to hear how much better you’re doing.” He chuckled and picked up the book beside them and began to read aloud as they both decompressed, content.


End file.
